Chapter 105 29810 Space Odyssey (Part 2)

Morse looked at the strange phantom cast by the wine glass on the table in the moonlight. The rim of the glass and the light and shadow circled on the surface of the red wine were nested in each other.

He touched the cup with his knuckles: "When he and Perturabo were discussing the name of the legion, I was wondering whether the word he said was sun or son. Until Perturabo asked him why he didn't use High Gothic (sol ).”

"A scholar's pet peeve?" Macado used a particularly gentle tone to neutralize the offensive power of his words. "The joy of discovering a breakthrough always makes people forget about the birth of new hidden dangers."

The Emperor rested his chin on one hand and nodded. "You gave him a chance to change, Morse. But thinking habits will not suddenly change just because you make up your mind."

After finishing speaking, he took a sip of the white wine in his glass and finished the second half of the sentence: "But he still has many years to grow."

Perhaps because he finally had the opportunity to take off his cold gold armor and put on a soft and comfortable loose linen robe, the emperor was in a high mood today, with a faint smile on his face with slightly darker skin. , and deepen with the consumption of alcoholic beverages.

Morse's fingertips quickly grazed the upper edge of the glass, creating a series of sliding friction sounds.

The last time he drank was at the hermitage of Olympia Lokos, where a large pile of crudely brewed old wine had been buried in the land behind the house; as for drinking wine from a wine glass with a carved surface and gold rim, that might have been true. It dates back more than 10,000 years.

"Anyway, this is what I did after I left Olympia," he said briskly, "messed up a city, killed some things, and brought you a new son. I told you Magnus and How similar are you?"

"Not yet." The Emperor thought for a moment, "But I know he is similar to me. A strong thirst for knowledge and curiosity."

"And damn super psyker status," Morse said. "Don't stare at me, Malcador, you are a super psyker and the Emperor is a damn super psyker."

The Prime Minister of the Empire withdrew his gaze and slowly rolled up a piece of honeydew melon cut into small sections with slices of ham. "Oh, I'm just a humble servant of the Empire."

"And my friends," said the Emperor, "both of you."

Morse thought his eyes looked like those of an ordinary clerk who saw an unknown alien creature lying in a ditch on the side of the road after get off work.

"You make me unable to bear to ask you if you have schizophrenia. The guy who flies down from the sky every day with golden light, the strange man who made and lost twenty sons in one breath, and the old man sitting in front of me now The Lavans don't look much like that, do they?"

"But you asked already, Morse," the Emperor replied. "There is no psychiatrist who can examine me, so I guess I am not mentally ill."

"Don't tell me you're serious."

Macado swallowed his ham and melon. "he is."

The Emperor looked innocently at Malcador with his dark eyes, until the latter's fingers holding the stem of the red wine glass trembled. Well, you made a perfect joke, my lord. "

The prime minister continued: "Sometimes I feel that you are very young, younger than all of us... Morse." He paused deliberately for a moment before naming the person he was talking to.

"Because I don't want to pretend," Morse said. "It's like I never change my appearance, except for an occasional change of clothes."

The Emperor looked at Morse and asked, "How often does this 'occasionally' mean?"

"If you want, I can make myself a new set of ruffled stand-up collar shirt, gold and silver piping jacket, thin brocade knee-length shorts, embroidered stockings and black top hat with turned brim, and then we can reenact the story of the guillotine in the palace. "

After saying that, Morse drank up his wine and once again confirmed that he had no liking for this sour, strange and low-alcohol drink.

"It may not be feasible." Makado thought for a while, "If you want, I can arrange for an empty room to be used as a theater."

He did consider the possibility, after all, tonight was a break that allowed for fantasy and relaxation.

"No." The Emperor refused and removed his chin from the hand that supported his head, freeing his hands to carve a steak. "Today is not a bloody night."

"It's up to you," Morse said nonchalantly.

He paused for a moment, as if he was listening to the voice coming from far away, and then Morse raised his eyebrows: "Are you really trying to drink and eat meat with Leman Russ?"

"You never told me this story," said Malcador.

The Emperor put down his knife and fork. "It's true." He recalled the wonderful scene of meeting Russ, and he smiled. "I hit him until he hit the wall."

"Very brave, my lord."

"Hey, what do you mean? You can't be happy just because you beat your kid."

"My child?" The Emperor's smile froze at the word, making the Lord of Mankind look like an awkward picture. Mors and Malcador stopped doing anything except breathing, leaving the Emperor some time to think.

In this rare silence, Morse was also reading the Emperor's appearance.

Even in private gatherings under the stars - well, this is a simulated starry sky projection in the palace - the year-round compassion and dissociation still slide over the face of the lord of mankind from time to time, throwing him to A level higher than the mortals in this world.

The Emperor often sought to deny this, stripping away fragments of his noble character that he used to pretend to be short-lived in order to capture his original joy and anger, tracing his original identity as a mortal.

He often believes that he has successfully recovered an identity other than king, wizard, consul, maester, forerunner, conspirator, religious leader, officer-politician, such as friend or father, and is pleased to find that the mask he wears has not yet penetrated deeply. his soul.

But Morse knew he couldn't do it, as long as he was still dreaming about that big dream about a better future for mankind.

Not long after, the Emperor came out of the depths of his thoughts. The expression in his deep eyes became firm and warm. This emotional power spread out endlessly from the emperor's small body after taking off his psychic shell, making the other two people present almost helpless. Resistively, affection and emotion arose.

For a moment Morse felt the Emperor approaching them, until he was reminded by the cool touch of the glass in his hand.

When the Emperor found Horus, was there a gurgling warmth in the heart of the Primarch in his pearl-white armor? Does he clearly know that he is loving someone who cannot reciprocate his love?

As for Russ, Morse thought he already knew that, from the way he introduced the Emperor to his brothers.

"They are my children." The Emperor gave a different answer than more than a month ago, with a shining light on his face, perhaps because the Lord of Mankind thought he had thought it through. "I gave birth to them in order to create tools, and used my light to bring them close to me. However, I am still a father. This identity has never disappeared. I cannot deny it."

He's watching me say these words, Morse thought, and I can't say no.

"It's really touching." He spoke calmly and put his right hand on the table, "So you also think it is necessary to have an architect in the tool, right?"

"I was guessing when you would mention Terra," Malcador said. "We humans are always fighting with each other, and the disputes never stop. However, in the end, the planet that is destroyed because of this will always become the planet that provides us with a place to live."

"The lifespan of most humans is short," the Emperor said, "while the recovery of vegetation and rocks is long."

"So we didn't destroy the planet," Morse said briskly. "We destroyed only our own pleasant habitat. When I left Terra, it was ugly enough for human taste. It could become It’s even more ugly. I didn’t expect it. Should I be glad that I didn’t witness how you turned the earth into this?”

"Earth," Malcador repeated thoughtfully.

"This is the heart of human civilization," the Emperor said. "She is always the first to suffer and the last to be saved."

"Times have changed, and now we are finally falling in love with geocentrism again."

"Very accurate," the Emperor smiled, "and we have to take the occult as a serious science again."

"We advance by going back," Morse whispered.

"Because we have crossed the peak of civilization." Makado said.

"And we must move forward." The Emperor said calmly, repeating this sentence dozens of times a day for everyone to hear, so after saying it, he continued to eat his steak.

Morse wasn't sure of the name of the meat, and he hadn't looked through the current Galactic Creatures Manual, if one existed. Anyway, it looks like a piece of beef, and it also has some reddish juices oozing out from the pressure of the knife cutting the muscle fibers.

He found that there were many things he was unclear about, but this had nothing to do with him living independently outside of Terra. Even before human civilization dispersed, one person would no longer be able to exhaust the knowledge of the current era.

It is always the true geniuses who push the times forward, such as the many roles the Emperor once played. But Morse just walked around behind him. Whenever his name was called, he would go up and give him a hand, help him climb over a high wall or something, and then let him take him behind the wall. In the new world.

Morse didn't have any additional opinions on this, except that he was often worried that the Emperor would step out and find himself standing on the edge of a cliff just now.

"You have to know," he poured himself some new wine, choosing the latter between considering and ignoring the correct way to pour wine, "I saw Tyra's look, except that she was surprised, but there was nothing sad about it. This made me sad. It’s just a planet. It has a crust, a mantle, an atmosphere, and all these things are there for the planet itself. I can’t feel anything about the planet itself.”

"I was born here, just like other people are born on other planets. I spent many years living here, but what does that mean? I left nothing behind that I can't bear to part with."

"But I do want to come back." His back teeth bit each other, and the violent contraction of the muscles caused a little pain. "Many times."

“I looked for people who could navigate, and those were the few times I consciously made money, and I acquired money and status in order to pay what I prefer to call a pension to people who, nine times out of ten, were going to die.”

"I send talented people to penetrate the curtain between the real universe and the non-material space to spy on a distant planet where the spiritual light is no different from other places. I hope that any talented person can distinguish the place that I can't find. This makes I killed a lot of people. I did it for one reason, Emperor."

"I think you might have a few unsent invitations leading to your dreams."

He suddenly stopped here, looked at the emperor's calm and somewhat bewildered face, and asked, "Do you still have it?"

The Emperor lowered his eyes, then stood up and extended his right hand across the table. Morse took his hand and stood up similarly.

Most people would describe the Emperor's words as the thunder of destiny, which cannot be violated. But what is truly irresistible is his cold and powerful will. Regardless, the Emperor's rough palms were warm enough.

"Yes," said the Emperor. Morse sat down with him only after the Emperor let go.

"You are partners again," Malcador said, relieved. The Emperor cannot fight alone, and his golden armor and throne are no match for his companions. As for the Custodes, although he had not participated in their creation, he knew that they were watchers and not companions.

"Yes." Morse looked at the emperor relaxedly, "So it's time to introduce the situation to me further? What is the purpose of the machine underground in your palace? You can't hide too much from your friends. secret."

A hint of surprise finally flashed across the emperor's face, "You..."

"Do you think I'm being honest?" Morse said. "No, I just want to put some moral pressure on you to share your big plans with me. Last time you only said you had twenty children, and you didn't mention a word about the machine. If I didn't reply to Terra, I'm afraid I won’t know it existed until that thing blows up your palace one day.”

Malcador let out a deep sigh. "I believe that my lord can succeed...although he has not yet started this plan."

Both men recognized that it was not a statement but a prayer.

The Emperor stared at his cooling steak for a moment, until he proved that there was no cosmic truth in the half-eaten piece of meat.

"Do you know the Eldar?" he said.

"I can speak the Eldar language." Morse spread his hands, "A beautiful but quite annoying language. Different letters have different meanings on different occasions. The body parts and expressions are all written in a written way."

"Humanity was once divided by the obstruction of the warp storm, and the Eldar had a way to avoid the corruption dangers and additional obstructions of the warp channels and travel freely across the world. The Eldar had their own communication network that spanned the galaxy and coordinated the entire world. The pace of the race is now being used by no one."

"I have long said that the current way of navigating subspace is too rough." Morse whispered, "It's like driving a submarine into a trench."

"And I decided to reuse this network." The emperor glanced downwards, "I obtained this machine from the desert. It will be the hub for reorganizing the network and prevent humans from being blocked by time and space again. , and no longer have to be disturbed by the dark gods."

Morse folded his hands on the edge of the table. As the one locked away from Terra by the Warp Storm, he immediately recognized the importance of this network - at least Malcador had erected an additional psychic shield for their conversation.

"After the expedition progresses to a certain extent, I will return to Terra and focus on the development of the Webway Project. We can..." He hesitated for a moment, but then said: "We can go see the machine together later. I Name it the Golden Throne.”

"I like your plan," Mors said. Although he still had many questions, getting an answer from the Emperor exceeded his initial expectations.

He would remain with Perturabo on Terra for a while, and other details could be discussed later, such as whether the Emperor intended to leave the Imperium in the hands of the clearly favored Horus while dealing with the Webway.

"Magnus will also like it, not having to sink into the warp, but being free to unleash his curiosity on the entire universe." He said, remembering how the two men once felt that there was a person in the warp. Brave New World.

The Emperor nodded calmly, his words like a distant sigh: "When that time comes, our race will roam free in space."

The second volume is over, and it’s time for confession at the end of the volume.

Hmm...how to put it...

Forget it, just ask for suggestions. If you have anything to say, just comment here. Any content, critical comments are welcome. Please don't be tactful in your criticism.

I'll see if there's anything I can answer or improve.

And a preview: two or three new primarchs will appear in the second volume.